


Of Nightmares, Late Nights, and Nitrogen

by SabbyStarlight



Series: George Eads Appreciation Week 2020! [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Can Opener tag, Fluff, Gen, Guts+Fuel+Hope Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22894585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: Day two of George Eads Appreciation Week!  Favorite Episode.How many El Noche tags can one fic writer come up with?  Apparently, the answer is always “At least one more!”
Series: George Eads Appreciation Week 2020! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645582
Comments: 37
Kudos: 98





	Of Nightmares, Late Nights, and Nitrogen

**Author's Note:**

> How have I made it this far into writing for these two without hitting the “And there was only one bed” trope yet? Well, that madness stops today. I’m bending the rules a little bit for this one because while this is technically a tag to one of (because I can’t pick one single episode) my favorite episodes, Can Opener, it is really more of a tag to one of my very least favorites, Guts+Fuel+Hope, which was the first episode without our man Jack. So I had to fix it.

“You sure you’re alright? We could have stayed at Phoenix until morning, just to make sure?” Jack posed it as a question, though he knew good and well it would earn him a steely blue glare. But his job was to keep an eye on that genius behind those blue eyes, the one who was currently limping his way out of his bathroom after a shower, and it was a job he took seriously. 

“I’m fine.” Mac pulled a faded old Go Army t-shirt over his head with a wince, making one final pass over his still-dripping blonde hair with the towel in his hand, trying to get rid of the worst of the water before falling into bed. His eyes passed between the towel and the adjoining doorway, all the way back on the other side of the room, before deciding it wasn’t worth making the trip on his aching muscles and throwing it half-heartedly into a ball in the closest corner. 

“Well, I wasn’t there to see it myself,” Jack folded back the blankets on Mac’s neatly made bed and nodded for him to crawl between the sheets, biting back a smile as he recognized the shirt as one of his own, a size too large on Mac’s frame, with a barbed wire tear in the left sleeve from fixing fences with his dad on the ranch the spring before he went CIA. “So excuse me if I’m not quite believin’ it at the moment. Do you know how bad that phone call scared me? Havin’ Ri tell me, all the way out in DC, that you went off and pulled one of your crazy stunts without me there to have your six? And that it landed you in Medical? After flyin’ around the world to leave a perfectly good hospital you just risked your life to save?” 

“I already heard this lecture,” Mac reached up to cover a yawn with his hand, a frown drawing as even that small movement hurt. “At Medical. And caught the sequel in the car on our way home. Too tired for a triple-feature, man. Just drop it?”

“Yeah, alright,” Jack agreed, reaching out to carefully pull the blankets over Mac’s chest, not even attempting to resist the urge to rest the back of his hand against his forehead for a moment before letting his fingers comb through damp hair. 

“I don’t have a fever,” Mac muttered, adjusting the blankets, making no move to push the hand away. “You know that, right?” 

“You almost died today,” Jack shot back, eyes darkening at the words. “And I wasn’t even there. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, I do.” Mac pried tired eyelids open, offering a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Hover all you want, as long as I can sleep through it. Still can’t believe you got the SecDef to get you a jet back to LA in the middle of your meeting.”

“I still can’t believe you expected me to do anything other than just that.” Jack teased, letting his hand drop to the side of Mac’s neck for a moment before it found its way down to his shoulder. “You sure you ain’t hurtin’? You’re crazy tense.” 

“Sore,” Mac admitted, rolling his shoulder up into Jack’s hand, prompting the calloused fingers to start gently rubbing at the tight muscles there. “All over. Mainly joints. Headache. The pressure in that room, man, that suit could only do so much.” 

“And that was before you went and cut your oxygen line and tried to suffocate yourself.” 

“Yeah,” Mac agreed, sinking further down into his pillow. “That wasn’t fun.” 

“Not havin’ any trouble breathing are you?”

“No,” he assured. “Chest is a little tight, but I’m fine. Which you know, because you made me spend the past six hours hooked up to monitors in the med bay to make sure of it.”

He looked just miserable enough that Jack couldn’t even be mad at him. “Alright,” He carefully rubbed his hand down Mac’s arm. “It’s been a long day. Or, well, a long yesterday, seeing as how it’s already the beginning of tomorrow. You get some rest, I’ll check in on ya in the morning.” 

“You could stay,” Mac’s voice called out before Jack had even made it halfway to the door. “I mean,” He backpedaled, the offer hadn’t sounded nearly as needy before he put it into words. “If you want. I’m fine. It’s just, you’ve gotta be tired too. And you know you’re always welcome to crash here. If you don’t want to drive home.” 

Jack paused, pretending to weigh his options. “Yeah, alright. I guess I can stay here. No sense in drivin’ all the way back to my place just to turn around and come check on you again in a few hours. You still got a pile of my extra clothes around here somewhere?” 

“Top drawer,” Mac sent a pointed look over towards his dresser. “Where they’ve been for, what now, the past seven? Eight years?” 

“Just checking,” Jack kicked off his boots and began digging through the top drawer of familiar clothing, searching for a pair of sweatpants. “You know, I could have swore there was more stuff in here. You wouldn’t know anything about my clothes goin’ missing, would you?” He teased. 

“No clue what you’re talking about,” Mac pulled the blankets up to his chin, hiding the shirt that had, in fact, come from that very drawer. “You done? Can I go to sleep now?” 

“Yeah, go to sleep,” Jack grinned, grabbing his clothes and turning the lamp light off on his way to the bathroom. “I’m takin’ a shower. And you better not have used up all the hot water!” 

Mac was asleep before the bathroom light came on and broke through the darkness. 

It felt like only seconds later though, that he was pulled awake again by a draft of cool air rushing in between his warm blankets. The far side of the mattress dipped as Jack settled in beside him. Mac turned his head, squinting at his partner. “What are you doing?” 

“Sleepin’,” Jack reached up to adjust the extra pillow behind his head. “That’s what you’re supposed to be doin’ too, remember? You sure you’re gettin’ enough oxygen to that brain of yours? This was your bright idea.” 

“Said you could crash here,” Mac grumbled, moving over with a wince, making room for Jack even as he was actively complaining about his presence. “Didn’t say it could be in my bed.” 

“Well I ain’t bunking with Bozer,” Jack huffed a laugh at the idea, tugging his share of the blankets back over to his side of the bed. “He kicks. Like a damn mule or somethin’. Found that out the hard way. And I’m beat. You’re not the only one who spent the day hoppin’ through time zones. Hush up and go back to sleep. You won’t even know I’m here.” 

“Will too,” Mac turned onto his side, trying to pull the blankets back from Jack, who held them tight, eventually giving up and just scooting closer to Jack’s body heat. “Boze might kick but at least he doesn’t snore.” 

“I don’t snore!” Jack gasped in mock offense at the accusation, but Mac was already asleep. 

The light filtering in through Mac’s bedroom windows was beginning to lighten, just the slightest bit, still hours away from daybreak, when Jack was startled awake. He lay perfectly still for a moment, trying to place what had woke him without letting the potential threat know that he was awake. When another whimper broke through the silence, a sound Jack had trained himself to react to and, ideally, prevent, over the years, he let himself relax. He rolled over to look at the clock beside him, surprised to find that the nightmares he had been expecting had held off as long as they did and let them get a few hours of rest. 

“Mac?” He called out quietly, hoping his voice alone would be enough to pull Mac out of the memories he was trapped in. “Mac, wake up bud.”

“No,” Mac’s voice broke on the one syllable, sounding younger than Jack had ever heard him, as one hand reached up to scratch at his face. “Can’t...”

“Mac.” Jack tried again, voice louder, passing a stressed hand over his own face. He knew better than to reach out, physical contact was the last thing Mac needed at the moment, while he was still asleep, panicking. “Mac, it’s just a dream. You gotta snap outta it.” 

“Please…” Mac whimpered again, weakly shoving at the blankets twisted around him, and that was the final straw. 

“Angus!” Jack barked, harsh and demanding. He could count on one hand the number of times he had used that tone of voice with the kid. And the times he had used his first name, not as a joke, could probably be counted on both hands. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and he didn’t want to listen to Mac suffer any more than Mac himself wanted to be stuck in the dream. 

It worked. 

Mac shot awake with a painful sounding gasp that quickly turned into a long series of grating coughs. Jack twisted the sheets into his fists, forcing himself to not reach out and comfort, no matter how strong the instinct was to do just that. “Easy, Mac. You’re alright.” 

Jack’s voice dropped lower again, unthreatening and familiar, but it still sent the younger man into a panic. His head whipped to the side, hair rustling against his pillowcase, eyes blown wide, and upon seeing that there was another person close to him, even if it was only Jack, sent him scrambling to sitting. Frantic hands pushed the blankets away from him as he scooted to the foot of the bed, as far away as he could get. 

“Just me, hoss,” Jack assured, every muscle tensed to make himself stay put. “It’s just me. Take a breath, now, you’re safe.” 

Mac pulled his knees up to his chest and scrubbed both hands over his face, wiping away tear tracks, before burying his fingers in his hair. “Nightmare.” 

"Yeah, I figured that much," Jack sighed. "You wanna talk it out?" 

Mac shook his head, wrapping both arms around his legs and folding even further into himself. 

"You sure? You know that helps sometimes, getting it out in the open.” 

Mac stared blankly past him for a moment, blinking in the navy light, letting his eyes adjust and his breathing finally begin to settle before finally answering. " Mexico.'

And while Jack had been expecting it, the second Riley told him what went down in that hospital he knew what memories would be triggered, he had to bite back waves of fury and resist the urge to climb out of bed and drive to that prison he knew El Noche was still locked up in and beat the smug smirk right out from under his mustache. But Mac needed him, so he stayed where he was. "That mission brought it all back in technicolor, huh? That bustard's idea of a good time?"

“It just… I don’t know. Took me back there, I guess. That feeling of not being able to breathe.” 

Jack inched the foot closest to Mac over, just enough for it to bump up against his friend’s tense legs. “Leave it to you to manage to almost be suffocated due to Nitrogen exposure twice in only a few years, huh?” 

It wasn’t a funny joke, not by a long shot, but the normalcy of the familiar teasing got Mac to crack the slightest of smiles. “Yeah, leave it to me.” He didn’t bother voicing the fact that both times happened on the rare occasion he was without his partner. They were already both all too aware of it.

“You wanna get up? Start the day?” Jack offered, fighting back a yawn. “It’s technically morning, I guess.” 

“Too early,” Mac shook his head. “Still tired, just don’t know if I can go back to sleep after that.”

“Well, alright then,” Jack reached over and straightened the blankets back into some semblance of order, folding them back and holding an arm open, inviting. “C’mon.”

"What?" It was too dark to see clearly, but Jack could picture the look of sleep-muddled confusion on Mac's face without issue

"C'mon," Jack tried again, motioning him closer. "You just said you were still tired. And we both know how hard it is to fall back asleep after a nightmare like that, how rattled it leaves you. I’ve been told I make a pretty good pillow. Get on back in here.” 

“You’re not serious.” 

“Course I am!” Jack patted the bed at his flank. “What? You too tough to come cuddle with me?” 

“You’re crazy,” Mac ducked his head, not quite managing to hide his smile, but unfolded himself from the ball he had wrapped himself in and crawled his way back across the bed, settling in against Jack’s side.

“See?” Jack waited until Mac was settled, head resting on his chest, afraid the sound of his voice would break the spell and startle the younger man out of the tired, hurting, moment of hard-to-find vulnerability. “Now ain’t that better?” 

“I can’t sleep with you talking,” Mac answered, but Jack could still hear the smile in his voice. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Jack teased through his own smile, wrapping an arm around Mac’s back and pulling him even closer. “Don’t like my snorin’, don’t like my talkin’. You sure got a whole lotta complaints for someone lookin’ as comfy as you do, all curled up there on top of me.” 

“Thank you for staying,” Mac was fighting a losing battle with staying awake, but he needed to make sure Jack knew. “Missed you. Didn’t really wanna be alone.” 

“Any time, kid,” Jack promised. “Go on to sleep, I gotcha. Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He stayed awake, even after Mac was sound asleep, keeping watch, ready to step in and chase away any monsters that dared lay a hand on his boy. Real world or a dream, Jack was there to watch his back.


End file.
